if this doesn't pass like the storm I'm under

my guilt is more like that of a sheep
I am angry at the fact that they take my wool
but I’m guilty over the fact that I don’t have more for them to take

I am lingering here and I am lost. I am wandering these
literal halls
and I am pressed up against them as if by force.

but only because there is no light in this tunnel. I am not seeing the end.
I am not grasping the breath that is needed to come to the surface.
even when I literally surface from the pool, I feel like gasping.

and the time continues to tell me that I am doing alright for someone my age.
that I am accomplishing what few accomplish.
but the old thrills of leafleting leave me wanting more, and wanting less.

being left in want is only a state of mind
but being left alone is a permanent state of physical distress
the hysteria I am generating may be locked behind my eyes, but it sure fucking feels real.